Loom For One More
by Save Fearow
Summary: The Gromble's Academy was designed to educate the best and brightest monsters. So what in the world was little Ickis doing, trying to enroll there?


Loom For One More

an Aaaah! Real Monsters Fanfic

by Save Fearow

Author's Note: Very close precursor to the series proper, set on August 16th, 1992 which places the date on a Sunday. My old schools always began classes the 3rd Monday in August. As hinted in 'Road To Alexandria' little Ickis needed to pass a profiency test for admittance to the Academy, due to being ever-so-slightly younger than the main cast.

The Gromble was making his final preparations for another class of little dirt-draggers. He -would- have been content with 64 pupils, heckling him for the next 40 years, but Slickis had voted to extend the board meeting an extra half hour, then lobbied a passionate plea to entitle the scholarship to the "future farmers of America", noting that mold had many useful properties besides food, although monsters needed good nutrition, pies were very filling, and they probly would have ALL been treated to another few minutes of Slickis rhapsodizing on the joy of cooking when he snapped back to the more important matter of how the Academy could best spend its limited budget to ensure the education of the current monster generation. The Gromble had to admit that Slickis was more than just skilled at frightening humans, when motivated, he could be a surprisingly good orator. He'd have to beg the loomer to give a guest lecture sometime, when he wasn't so busy. Actually, the Gromble might -still- be able to talk to Slickis today, since he'd left his little bonsty standing in the hallway waiting for the Gromble to administer the Academy's profiency test. It's not like Slickis would just disappear somewhere, while the bonsty was all by his lonesome! And that child could stay alone for a little longer, the Gromble's life didn't revolve around Ickis, after all, there was no need for him to drop everything to rush to the boy's side. He added Krumm's name to the roster, right between Jigger and Leakik (or Leaky as he liked to be called).

The Gromble casually strode up to the prospective student, who stood glumly next to his suitcase, fiddling with a pair of glasses. "Ickis? Where's your father?" questioned the Gromble.

"Yeep!" Ickis squealed and nearly dropped the spectacles. "Dad cautioned me not to break these, but do you think if something 'accidentally' happened to them, I could get contacts? I always thought I'd look better in those, why doesn't Dad see it that way?" he wondered.

"ICKIS! I don't like repeating myself, but obviously your feeble little mind can't process new information readily. Where is your father?" the Gromble demanded.

Ickis huffed. "Dad left already. Ruffled my fur, told me I'd make it, yes way then raced off to roll Gorbalts or who knows what, he ALWAYS forgets to lemme know where he's going an' what he's planned an' how long it'll be." groused Ickis. "At least he didn't do the camoflauge trick before saying g'bye."

"Ooh, I always admired that!" the Gromble recalled with delight. "It's very impressive when a monster can blend into his surroundings in anticipation of a scare. Would you be able to give a demonstration, or has the Great Slickis not gotten around to showing you that technique yet?"  
Ickis scowled. "I can -never- do it willingly. 5th generation, non-camoflauge monster. You wouldn't even know Dad was a carrier for a defective trait just by watching him, wouldja? No, not the Great Slickis! He's so strong, he's so brave, he couldn't possibly pass any undesirable conditions on to his son, oh nooo!" Ickis whined.

"Slickis also had 20/20 vision, could pitch a tomato into the strike zone every time. Obviously you didn't inherit -everything- from him." the Gromble observed.

Ickis glared at him. "Sir, are you just going to flunk me no matter what I try, cause I'm not little Slickis Junior, or are you going to give me a chance to show what I -can- do?" Ickis questioned.

"Trying? Is that what you call it? Sounds more like making excuses to me." the Gromble responded. "Be that as it may, Ickis, I -am- obligated to give you a profiency test. You have exactly 1 hour to complete it. Convince me you have something worthwhile to offer this Academy, and you will be given this Monster Manual. Look well upon it, Ickis. The Manual is not just a status symbol, it will serve as the main reference point for all students during the course of their studies."

Ickis gazed at him intently. "Can I see it?" he asked hopefully.

"Look with your eyes, not your claws!" snapped the Gromble. "The Manual doesn't leave -my- paws until you have proven your worth. You can have a sheet of paper and a quill. Start by writing your name, then tell me everything you can about the types of scarers that exist in the world."

Ickis gripped the quill nervously. "Sir? How does the S go again? Does it face my left or your left?" he inquired.

"That's moronic! Were you left unattended as a bonsty?" sneered the Gromble.

"I think so." Ickis mumbled. "Sometimes I almost 'member hatching. It was cold an' dark an' everything was shook up."

The Gromble's expression softened for a brief moment. "Yes, I s'pose that could be considered traumatic. Your egg went without proper heating for an estimated 40 minutes, that might account for -some- of your shortcomings." mused the Gromble.

"Sir? Could I just -tell- you about scare tactics?" Ickis pleaded.

"Write it down Ickis. Hard work never hurt any monster." the Gromble asserted.

Ickis scribbled his answer, making frequent corrections as he went. "Here you are, sir." he presented the paper to the Gromble.

The Gromble glanced at Ickis' list. "L is upside down, M is missing the final stroke, E is backwards, S is sideways, how is that even possible? But at least you got the O right in 'loomers' although you only included one of those vowels. And that is just the first word, Ickis." the Gromble detailed.

"Second word is pouncers." Ickis supplied. "Just in case you couldn't figure it out."

"Yeesh. I'd have to employ a cryptographer to even attempt to unscramble most of this." the Gromble conceded.

"Sometimes code-breakers work in Navajo. That's one of the 28 languages Dad knows." Ickis asserted.

"Too bad he couldn't impart any of that knowledge on you." murmured the Gromble.

"Parlez-vous français? Il rend mon papa heureux quand nous parlons entre eux de cette façon." Ickis jabbered.

The Gromble blinked. "Stop speaking gibberish, it was bad enough to be confronted with a written form of nonsense!" snarled the Gromble.

Ickis' ears drooped. "C'est la vie, that's just the way it goes, that's life." he intoned sadly.

"Fine. So I'm dealing with a barely literate monster who lacks any additional linguistic capabilities. That procludes you from passing the English portion of your exam. You'd really have to wow me on the other levels, and I don't think there's much chance of THAT happening is there?" the Gromble sneered.

"I have 48 minutes left sir, it -could- happen." Ickis posited.

"Still seems highly unlikely." the Gromble noted.

"Please, gimme a chance! It's not over yet! We have 4/5 of our original alloted time remaining! That's 80%. By the way, 80 is factorable by 1, 2, 4, 5, 8, 10, 16, 20, 40, an' 80!" Ickis blurted out desperately.

"How did you determine that?" the Gromble asked.

"Factor trees. All integers have them unless they're prime. Take my age as an example, 108. Those digits add up to 9, so you already know 9 is a factor, which automatically makes 3 a factor as well, since 3^2 is 9. Technically, so is -3^2 cause we're dealing with an even exponent. But I wasn't sure if you -wanted- to include negatives. I could throw them in there if that would help matters. It would only double the amount of factors I'd already listed though, since 2 negatives always make a positive when multiplied together. That's why negative exponents always seem to fluctuate SO much! 2 negatives become a positive, but another negative returns it back to the negative state, and so on and so forth, it keeps crossing the 'number line' if you want to envision it that way, most monsters do. I was jus' trying to point out that 108 has more opportunies mathematically speaking than the so-called optimum age of 110 since 11 -is- a prime number, thus the amount of available factors greatly decreases. You only have 1, 2, 5, 10, 11, 22, 55, 110. Again, we're jus' dealing with positives, an' everything's in whole numbers. If we got decimals involved then we'd -really- be opening ourselves up to possibilites." Ickis suggested quickly.

The Gromble stared at him. "You thought all of this up right now?" he questioned.

"No, I discovered that decades ago! I'm just repeating the kinds of facts I think over when I hafta to wait someplace for Dad to come back, or for you to talk to me, or for the loneliness to subside although that feeling never does -quite- leave me, 'specially at night." babbled Ickis.

"Guess we'll be skipping the math portion of the test." the Gromble determined.

"So not fair! I mighta actually done alright at that one!" Ickis argued.

The Gromble smacked his forehead in frustration. "Oh, give me strength." he muttered.

"There's a physical portion of the exam? Um, I should probly have a snack first, Dad says loomers perform better on a full stomach." Ickis remembered.

"I'd almost forgotten his daily foraging runs. Which reminds me, that Olympic trophy -should- have been MINE, if only Slickis hadn't slept through the competition! How was I to know he'd only had 5 meals the day before? Hmpph. If I DID admit another loomer, that would certainly put on a strain on the cafeteria workers' output. That's something to consider, whether the increased work-related pressure could potentially drive a monster insane." pondered the Gromble.

"I'm sure your staff would think nothing of it!" Ickis tried to sound optimistic.

"You have very little insight into the adult mind." the Gromble professed. "Let's go over some other philosophies. Why do we scare, Ickis?"

"To get toenails!" Ickis announced brightly.

"No, Ickis. We scare to support our continued existance." the Gromble insisted.

"Toenails support our continued existance. Otherwise you gotta stay under a bridge an' they are NOT waterproof structures, I don't care what the brochures they give tourists might claim, those are LIES!" Ickis shuddered involuntarily.

The Gromble sighed. "You are completely lacking in foresight, aren't you?" he commented.

"Heyyy! I can see close-up objects, even if I gotta squint for them. It's the distance an' the peripheral vision that tend to get blurrier." Ickis asserted.

"You also don't seem to pick up on FIGURATIVE EXPRESSIONS!" roared the Gromble.

Ickis flinched. "That -was- very expressive, sir." he complimented.

"Aww, how sweet. Flattery will get you NOWHERE, Ickis. Stop shaking, and -do- something productive! By your own admission, you have -zero- camoflauge capabilities. Can you at least manage a loom?" the Gromble suggested.

"Yeah, Dad told me 'zactly what to do! Watch and be amazed!" Ickis bragged. He flexed his claws and crouched down menacingly. If he could just remember the proper posture, and the right muscles to clench, and in what order, the Gromble would be totally impressed! He closed his eyes shut and braced for his moment of glory. Then he shrunk.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't loomers s'posed to inflate themselves to even BIGGER proportions than their standard size?!' yelled the Gromble.

Ickis opened his eyes and looked around frantically. "Whoops. Had the darn thing in reverse." he quipped. Ickis quickly snapped back into his default form. "Can I get a do-ever? I'd loom perfectly this time, sir! I've done in the past, an' it's almost always been a conscious choice, really! Just watch me!" Ickis pleaded.

"No. I can tell I'm not going to get anywhere with you. You can't write, you don't know the first things about your heritage, and you have NO aptitude for scaring. The most you can do is perform stupid bonsty tricks in front of the class. You have nothing to offer this Academy, Ickis. Go home." the Gromble dismissed him.

"Wh-what did you say?" Ickis whispered, his voice quavering.

"Is your hearing as bad as the rest of you seems to be? I never would have suspected those floppy ears were purely ornamental. Oh well. I told you to go home, get lost, see ya, arribe bye-bye! Come back in 40 years if you must, Ickis. Maybe by then you won't be -such- a pitiful little bonsty." the Gromble announced with finality. He almost missed hearing the growl that followed his remark, but turned to look back on a whim.

"I'm not a bonsty!" Ickis roared. He bared his fangs, and the Gromble watched in amazement as the young monster's eyes filled with blood. Ickis swelled until he had surpassed the Gromble's height by about 3 inches then continued hollering. "I can take care of MYSELF! Who the heck d'ya think watches the house for the Great Slickis, while he's having some amaaazing adventure without me?! The sponge can't see everything, Shnookie doesn't even -have- eyes! Shaddup RIGHT NOW about me bein' a bonsty or I will cram those stupid shoes down your stupid throat! If I'm -not- your student, then you DON'T have authority to punish me an' I'll take matters into my own claws! I'm NOT afraid of the big, bad Gromble!"

The Gromble's eyes widened but he managed to keep his knees from knocking. "Master Ickis?" he addressed the young loomer.

Ickis shrank back down, gasping for breath. "I c-can't really do that much, 'less I... have something to eat or drink... ahead of time. An' maybe I oughtta... lie down somewhere." Ickis added.

"There's an infirmary here for all my students. I might as well show you where it is, Master Ickis, I have a feeling you'll be a -frequent- guest there." the Gromble allowed.

Ickis perked up. "I can go to the Academy, Dad's Academy?" he asked eagerly, as he clutched his suitcase.

"MY Academy, Master Ickis. As the Headmaster, I am the -most- important monster associated with this building. Keep that in mind while you remember to NEVER make fun of my shoes again under penalty of Snorching." the Gromble hissed while they strolled along.

"What's a Snorching? Dad never mentioned -that-, must be new." Ickis noted.

"You'll find out soon enough, I'm sure. This is your dorm number, it's the last one on the left down that hall. After you've rested in the infirmary for a few hours, that's where you need to go. Keep an eye on your belongings, Master Ickis, -particularly- the Monster Manual. This is yours now, so make sure it's with you at all times." instructed the Gromble as he handed over his final copy.

Ickis hefted both his suitcase and the large textbook. "Oof, that's kinda awkward. Maybe I'll shove the book in there later, bury it under the blanket or something." muttered Ickis.

The Gromble sighed. "Why do you even have ears if you never use them?" he remarked.

Ickis pointedly ignored that comment. "Least I'll get my own room." Ickis declared, yawning slightly.

The Gromble smirked. "Oh are -you- in for a rude awakening, Master Ickis." promised the Gromble.

~~~The End.

Author's Note: You don't think they'd make Ickis, son of the Great Slickis, share a room, do you? (Ha ha ha SHADDUP!) Rooming together is probly a necessity given the Academy's size. Monsters Are Fun states that there were 66 students in total. I estimate the dump can house 30 dorms. Thus 24 dorms are shared by 2 monsters, and the remaining 6 dorms feature clusters of 3. The Gromble assigns all roommates at the beginning of the term but they can switch around later if they choose, such as when Krumm joined Snav and Blib briefly in A Perfect World. Knowing that the Gromble sometimes allows for co-ed groupings, you'd think he'd want to be a little clearer in his biology lessons, but maybe he's hoping that if he ignores it, nothing will come of it. See, even the Gromble misses a few judgment calls. Reviews are encouraged.


End file.
